


Fragile Machine

by Wayward_Warlocks



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Father-Son Relationship, just kind of my own ramblings relating to sick relatives, written in free verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-07-01 14:01:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15775548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wayward_Warlocks/pseuds/Wayward_Warlocks
Summary: Hank’s sick, and he forgets.Basically just Connor’s thought process as he visits Hank in hospital. Set a long time after the events of the game, long after Hank’s old age began to take a toll on him





	Fragile Machine

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This work was inspired by a lot of things, mainly a piece about hospitals im doing a detailed analysis on for my higher English, a prose-style Greek tradgedy I’m reading currently and a wonderfully heartbreaking comic by tehRogue on youtube (check them out!)

I walk the corridor.

The words "ward nine"

swirling in my head.

I take a deep breath;

one I don't necessarily need.

The thoughts are only

slightly outshone

by the overwhelming smell

of antiseptic, put in place

only to drown out the smell

of blood.

But I can still smell it,

its coppery scent,

weaving its way

around my nose hairs,

giving me a faint, ill feeling.

 

I take another step, and another.

Everything's moving

Fast and slow

Fast and slow

I struggle, just for a moment

to remember where I'm going.

 

Ward nine.

He's in ward nine.

 

I find the door.

The door to his room.

It opens

slowly

and reveals the person I'm looking for.

 

"Hi, Hank." I whisper.

Everything's

quiet.

 

Except the beeps.

 

The

steady

beeps.

 

He's grey.

A pale

sickly colour.

A colour I'd never

wish to see

on anyone.

A sign of sickness.

Of oncoming

_death_.

 

"Hello, son." He greets.

I wait.

 

"Who are you, again?"

 

"My name's Connor."

I take a step closer.

I

_try_

to keep my voice

steady.

 

Steady

like the beeps.

 

Hank sits up.

He reaches

for the counter.

A flash of silver

between his fingers.

 

"C'mere, son." He says,

voice,

hands,

arms shaking.

 

I sit

by the bedside.

Close,

yet

so

distant.

 

"You know any coin tricks,

son?"

 

I do.

He once

knew

that I do.

 

I shake my head.

 

"Not to brag,

but I'm quite

skilled

at coin tricks." He tells me.

 

"A young man.

He taught me.

What,

was his name?"

 

_Connor_.

I want to say.

_I_

taught _you_.

 

"Want to learn

a coin trick,

son?"

 

He teaches me

things

that I already know.

Not for the first time,

and not

for the last.

 

He asks

questions asked

a thousand times.

I answer.

Every.

Single.

Time.

 

It hurts,

when someone forgets.

It hurts,

When they forget

again.

 

Especially,

when they're someone

you consider

family.

Especially,

when they're someone you

love.

 

But humans

are fragile

machines.

I'm cursed

to outlive

the humans

I love.

 

One day

I too

will go,

in a way

not too

different

from my

father.

I won't have

children.

But,

I hope,

I'll be surrounded

by friends.

who know

my coin tricks,

but,

who will

listen

anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Didn’t know how to end it, so I just kinda left it... there. Hope u enjoyed :)


End file.
